In Too Deep (Wildfire Lake)

by Skye Jordan

  “Awesome.” She seems a little subdued.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing, yet.”

  “That doesn’t sound good.” I close my laptop.

  “So,” she says, drawing out the word. “A contractor.”

  “Yeah?”

  “I’ve had a hell of a time finding one who will come out and give a bid for the job.”

  Fucking Wildfire.

  KT crosses her arms and leans against the wall. “Guess O’Malley and the bank manager aren’t the only unhappy people in this town. There’s quite a bit of local dissidence over this place. Seems the idea that we’re building the next celebrity hangout has gotten around town, and no one will touch us, even after I explain that’s not true.”

  My heart sinks. “Well, shit.”

  “But I did find one willing to come talk to us. He should be here soon.”

  “I don’t want some half-assed contractor. This is a big job, we need a contractor who knows how to handle a big build. And someone dependable, not some fly-by-night. Contractors are like doctors, it takes real work to find a good one, but when you do, you stick with them.”

  “I’m a little surprised this guy is coming out. Half afraid he’s been living under a rock somewhere, because he’s local and he’s good. He did the renovation on the city hall.”

  “Really. I’m officially impressed. What’s his name?”

  “I’ve talked to so many guys, I can’t remember. It’s Paragon Construction. He and his partner are civil engineers, and they’re building the Whisper Cove development.”

  “The one with a view of the lake?”

  She nods. “They’re priced between seven-fifty and one-point-two mil.”

  “Maybe that’s why he’s coming out. He’s got a vested interest in how this renovation pans out. The people who pay that for a home here are going to want beautiful views.”

  “You know,” KT says with a little bit of mischief in her tone, “this property is zoned commercial. Someone could put up an ugly but lucrative hotel. It would kill the view from their development.”

  I smile. “It’s always good to have leverage.”

  Chloe calls from the living room. “Looks like he’s here,” then in a softer voice, “and he’s ridiculously hot.”

  KT laughs and starts toward the front of the boat. “He probably heard that.”

  I stand and fix my messy bun, wishing I’d had time to dress more appropriately. Cutoff shorts and a T-shirt knotted at the join of my rib cage isn’t exactly professional, but no time to change. If he’s local, my dress shouldn’t throw him.

  I grab the book I’ve created over the last couple of days since KT, Chloe, and I agreed to do this together. I’ve started the paperwork online to incorporate Cyclone Investments, sketched plot maps and dock expansion plans, listed boat names and descriptions, and added idea images for the restaurant.

  “Hi,” Chloe greets the man with enthusiasm. “I’m Chloe. This is KT. Laiyla is coming.”

  I make my way to the front of the boat, master plan in hand, grin of excitement on my face—and find myself staring at Levi.

  I glance behind him and down the dock.

  “No one else is coming,” he says. “I have a partner, but he’s working on another project.”

  Oh no. No, no, no. All my air leaks out, and the girls are giving me dual what-the-fuck-is-wrong-with-you looks.

  “Excuse us,” I say to Levi, then to KT and Chloe, “A minute please.”

  I return to my bedroom—the one with no door—and wait for the other girls to come in before I turn my back to the living room where Levi’s standing, hands on hips.

  I pin KT with a look. “No. We have to find someone else.”

  “Did you hear what I told you right before he walked in?”

  “Yes, but we have to.”

  “Why?” Chloe wants to know, her gaze cutting over my shoulder to Levi.

  “Just… Just because.”

  KT’s eyes narrow; her arms cross. “You have history with him.”

  Before I can answer, Chloe gasps. “Oh my God. He’s the guy who gave you your first orgasm.”

  “Chloe—”

  “And he’s still the only guy who has, am I right?” she asks.

  A knock sounds behind me on the wall above my head, and I jump. Then I drop my head and cover my eyes. Fuck me.

  “Ladies.” His voice is smooth and smug. “I hate to interrupt, but if I’m the topic of conversation, I feel the need to make sure the facts are correct. It was her first three orgasms, at least that night. I lost count for the rest of that summer. A mighty busy summer for sure, because she became quite demanding, and I do aim to please. But what do I know? She didn’t come back after that summer, so…” He shrugs. “I’ll be waiting outside for the next ten minutes, Ladybug, not a minute more.”

  As soon as the boat’s door closes, KT and Chloe chorus, “Ladybug?”

  I exhale hard. “I’d pay dearly for a trap door beneath my feet right now. Dearly.”

  “You shouldn’t be ashamed of wanting orgasms,” Chloe says. “And he knows what happened between you. It’s not like its news to either of you.”

  “Chloe,” KT says. “Shut it.”

  “He’s so hot, I can’t think. The sexy men in this town are seriously challenging my commitment to celibacy.” Chloe sighs and pushes past me. “I need to meditate.”

  “Oh. My. God. I’m so mortified, I can’t even breathe.”

  “Well, you’d better put on your big-girl panties and get him on board, or this project is screwed.”

  KT leaves the room, and I’m bleeding humiliation. My mind is spinning with all I’ve just learned about Levi, which only deepens my mortification. I slip into the bathroom and splash cold water on my burning cheeks. “Jesus Christ.” There’s just no other way to handle this but head-on. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

  I grab my book and stalk outside. Letting the door slam behind me, I pass Levi without looking at him, stride down the dock until I’m fairly certain I’m out of earshot of the boat, and drop my butt on the wood, then sink my feet into the cool, crystal water and wait.

  Levi takes his damn sweet time getting there, then stands there quiet for a long time. “Are we doing this, or am I taking a hike?”

  “This project is just as important to you as it is me. Sit your ass down.”

  “You always were good at taking charge.” He lowers to a seat beside me, work boots on the dock, arms around his knees. “Which is why I don’t understand the comment about orgasms and being the only guy—”

  “Don’t even.” I meet his gaze with a glare that makes everyone in my employ wither, including men. But Levi only smirks. “If you want me to sell this place to my parents and have them build an eyesore of a hotel that will block the view from your million-dollar homes in Whisper Cove, just say the word.”

  “Hey now, slow your roll.”

  “Says the man looking like a stud to my friends.”

  “Says the woman telling her friends about said stud.”

  I close my eyes and press my fingers against the lids. “Jesus, this just doesn’t get any messier.” I drop my hand and meet his gaze. “You’re a contractor, and you didn’t think to mention that to me?”

  “What difference would it have made?”

  “Don’t be like that. I always wanted the best for you.”

  “Well demonstrated by moving to Paris without telling me, then never talking to me again.”

  “I was eighteen, just a kid.”

  “That works for the year you were in Paris. What excuse do you have for the years after that?”

  I look out at the lake, shaking my head. “I can’t see how this is going to work.”

  “If either of us wants to meet our individual goals, we’ll have to find a way.” He gestures to the book in my lap. “Is that your plan?”

  “Yes.”

  “Can I look at it?”

  “We need a few ground rules,” I say.
>
  “Oh, I can’t wait to hear these.”

  “You cannot make fun of me or of this project. It’s important to me, and I may not have your skills, but I do have experience with large-scale renovations.”

  “I know. I saw that you were the director of property procurement at Saxon for a while.”

  The fact that he’s been following my career only makes me feel even worse for walking away without a word. Now, I’d call that move chicken shit, but at the time, I was heartbroken over having to adult and move forward without him, but with my parents paying all my bills, I didn’t have a lot of choice. I just knew I couldn’t bear to see his face when I told him we couldn’t be together.

  “And I know my prices,” I say, “so you better come up with a reasonable bid.”

  “Noted.”

  “And you’re not taking over. I’m in charge.”

  He laughs. “Of course you are.”

  Levi unlaces and pulls off his boots, then his socks. He rolls up his jeans to clear his thickly muscled calves and drops his feet in the water beside me. We’re sitting shoulder-to-shoulder, touching. He might even be leaning into me a little, and it takes me back to our inseparable friendship as kids.

  I remind myself he just wants the job.

  “You’re a civil engineer?”

  “I am.”

  “Where did you go to school?”

  “Cal Poly, SLO. Double majored in civil engineering and construction management.”

  “God, that’s so impressive. Then you came home and started a construction firm?”

  “No. I worked for a couple of years with a big construction firm in Santa Barbara doing project management, then I spent six years in Dubai.”

  “Wait, what? Dubai?”

  He nods. “One of my advisors shared the job opening with me, and I figured it would be a great way to get experience on major builds while making a shit ton of money.”

  “Did you?”

  “Yes, to both.”

  This information exposes Levi in a whole different light. “Why’d you come home?”

  “Sisters having babies. I was missing out on a lot, and I didn’t like it.”

  “You mentioned a partner. Do I know him—or her?”

  “It’s Mitch.”

  “Fielding?”

  He nods, grinning.

  “Oh, man, that’s a sweet deal. How is he?”

  “Great. He’s got a beautiful wife and two amazing kids.”

  It feels good to hear that. “I always liked Mitch.”

  “He always liked you too.” More silence stretches before he says, “Did you go back to the bank with the new plans?”

  “No. We decided to finance it ourselves.”

  “We?”

  “KT, Chloe, and I.”

  “How’s that going to work?” he asks.

  “We had an appraiser out to calculate the value of the property and equipment, and we’re taking that out of the equation. We’re each putting in an equal share for the renovation, and once the place sells after it’s all fixed up, we’ll split the profit three ways. KT has money from her father’s estate, Chloe wrote a bestselling book, and I—”

  “Have a trust fund.”

  “Don’t be an asshole. I wouldn’t touch that unless my kid needed a new heart.”

  His head comes back, brow furrowed. “You have a kid?”

  “No, it was just an example…never mind. I’m taking a loan against my 401k, leasing out my apartment, dumping all my savings into this.”

  His brows shoot up. “You’re moving here? And quitting your job?”

  “I’m hoping my parents will agree to a sabbatical, but I’m not holding my breath. They are going to hate this idea.”

  “That’s an understatement. Moving out of reach? For this place? Unless your relationship with them has drastically changed over the last twelve years, they’re going to be wickedly pissed off.”

  I rock my shoulders. “I’ll tell them when I get everything nailed down.”

  “Oh, to be a fly on the wall during that conversation.”

  I shake my head. “My point in telling you this is to illustrate how important this job is to me, to us. If you take on this project, I’m trusting you with everything I have, everything KT and Chloe have.”

  He’s staring at me like he can’t figure me out, then says, “Huh.”

  “What?”

  “You’ll trust me with your life savings, your best friends’ savings and your crown jewel after we haven’t seen each other for twelve years, but you couldn’t even break up with me face-to-face before you left for Paris.”

  Ouch. Big-time ouch. Like a knife twisting in my gut. I heave a sigh. “Maybe you could just suggest someone else and put in a good word for us.”

  He offers an outstretched hand. “Let’s see your ideas.”

  9

  Levi

  My head is deep in numbers when Mitch opens the door to the trailer on the Whisper Cove jobsite. Construction noise and voices drift into the office along with Mitch until the door shuts behind him. It’s quitting time, but my mind is still churning over Laiyla and her project.

  “Hey,” Mitch says, rounding his own desk while scanning mine. He drops into his chair and opens his laptop. “Want to come over for dinner tonight? Maia’s friend Iris will be there, and she’s still seriously hot for you even after her confrontation with Tina. That’s sayin’ something, huh?”

  “Thanks, but I can’t think about anything else until I figure out this job.” And I sure as shit can’t think about another woman while Laiyla is in town. In fact, it will be a long damn time until I think about another woman, period.

  “Is that the Jasmine Ridge project?”

  I shake my head, release a sigh, and lean back in my chair, arms overhead, stretching my back. “Wildfire Lake.”

  “You’re still working on that?”

  It’s day five of muddling through numbers for Laiyla’s project. “Yeah.”

  “What’s the holdup?”

  “It’s a big job.” I’ve been purposely dragging my feet because I’m still conflicted. “And they’ve got a tight budget.”

  Mitch isn’t buying it. “How big?”

  “New restaurant, renovation of the market, renovation of ten boats plus any they acquire used, storage, swim platforms, new docks, more slips, a pool…” I rest my clasped hands on top of my head. “It will take close to two years to get it all done.”

  “Hardly big for you.” Mitch leans forward, forearms on the desk. “You could have estimates for all that whipped out in two days.”

  He had, in fact, whipped it out in two days. Then spent three tinkering. And thinking. “The truth is, I don’t know if I want to spend all that time with her.”

  Mitch doesn’t respond, just waits for me to go on.

  “There’s still a spark, you know? I could get in way too deep with her way too easily.” I shake my head and stare at my notes. “I just… I don’t know.”

  “Are you ready for a reality check?”

  “I know what you’re going to say, and I know taking this job would benefit us, and I want that, but—”

  “That’s not what I was going to say.”

  “Then what?”

  “I was going to say that this is the perfect opportunity to figure your shit out with her. It’s no secret you keep throwing away good women because you’re so fucked up over her. I know you want to get married and have kids, but you’re not getting any closer to that while you’re nursing this hang-up. And now that she’s in town, that’s only going to get worse.”

  Mitch sits back. “Just face it and deal with it, once and for all. If there’s a spark, fan the flame. See what happens. Honestly, I don’t think you’ll ever get over her unless you try again. Then if it doesn’t work, you’ll know for sure. And if you know for sure, I think it will be easier to move on.”

  I mull over his words, gaze distant. The thought of being with her again is both thrilling and terrif
ying, heavy on the terrifying. I don’t trust her not to bail when it suits her. I don’t trust myself not to fall head over heels for her again.

  “I’ll think about it.”

  “Think faster,” Mitch says, closing his computer and heading toward the door. “If you’re not going to take this job, you can get started on Jasmine Ridge.”

  The door closes behind Mitch, and I’m left with my numbers and my fears. And when everything is said and done, I know I’m going to take the job. I’m just putting off the inevitable.

  I hit Print on my laptop and the printer spits out four copies of the proposal I’ve had done for days.

  On the drive to Laiyla’s, I work things out in my head. I’m not going into this for her. I’m doing it for me and the company. Working with her will undoubtedly dim the spark between us; then I can let the relationship take its natural course into a work friendship.

  I’ve almost got myself convinced of it when I turn onto the road leading to the lake and slow to avoid the divots. I’m thinking of all the benefits taking this job is going to afford me—control over who’s using the lake, the view from the Whisper Cove subdivision, getting over Laiyla—when movement in the rearview mirror catches my eye.

  Laiyla jumps on the back of the truck, standing on the bumper, holding on to the tailgate. It’s a game we used to play as kids, and the smile she’s wearing says she’s thinking the same thing. I can’t help but laugh. She’s still got that mischievous streak, which probably doesn’t bode well for me.

  “Took you long enough, Asher,” she says, her breathing quick, her gaze meeting mine in the side mirror. “How do you stay in business?”

  I continue into the parking lot, and when I come to a stop, Laiyla jumps off the bumper, walks a few circles, hands on hips, catching her breath from her run. By the time I get out of the cab, she’s bent, hands on knees.

  I shut the door, and she straightens. I try to keep my gaze from rolling over her, I really do, but it’s inevitable. She’s wearing a sports bra dressed up with all sorts of designs and straps, and runner’s shorts that are extra short, barely covering her ass and waisted low, showing off her flat abdomen a good two inches beneath her belly button. Damn, the girl has a body. Sweat glistens on her golden skin, and I’m seriously regretting this whole situation.